There are no pink tutus here

Although I only lasted in ballet for about a second, (I did competitive highland dancing. With swords.) I confess that I've always had a secret hope that my daughter would show an interest in dance and that she would show an aptitude toward graceful, flowing movement belied by the clumsy "can't walk and chew gum at the same time" genes passed on to her by her father and me.

And while Grace is at times a "girly girl", she is mostly not. My mother's description as a tomboy princess fits her to a tee. So she said "no" to dance and signed up for gymnastics. Then she took a break from gymnastics to try karate. And then we took her to an ice hockey game.

I should have suspected something was up from the start. We sat in my husband's company box and rather than bounce around the box and play on the couch and watch tv, she sat in her seat paging through the program, asking about the players' pictures. She showed particular interest in Mario Lemieux's picture when we told her he was one of the greatest players ever. When she discovered Mario was sitting in the box next to ours, she developed quasi-like paparazzi skills. She pointed at his picture. "Dat's Mario. He is wearing a blue shirt tonight."

And when the game started, she was riveted. She turned to me halfway through the first period and told me she was going to play this game. Then she asked her dad if girls were allowed to play this game. We honestly didn't know. We know soccer, football, t-ball... but next to nothing about hockey. But it turns out that there are lots of opportunities for girls to play hockey. So she is trading in her karate uniform for skates.

When I asked her last night if she was interested because of the ice skating, she said yes. Then she looked me straight in the eye and said "and because of the hitting." That's my girl.